There is bird song outside my window,

and that is how I know I will be okay.

Yesterday’s harsh words are ringing in my ears,

But I can hear their chirp just that little bit louder.


Old memories are flooding in,

brighter than the grey clouds rolling over the sky,

And they are warm and tempting,

because today I cannot stop crying,

and I am frightened,

And tomorrow is too far away and unpredictable.


But if I hold onto myself I remember,

that I am still the little girl who makes daisy crowns for cats,

I am still she who holds funerals for dragonflies,

and splashes naked in the stream.


This version of me is just a bad apple,

flung too far from her tree,

Which I still hug to remind me,

that roots are sturdier than the storm.

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